


We gladly feast on those who would subdue us

by Jiwa



Category: Addams Family - All Media Types, Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Addams Family References, Alternate Universe - Addams Family Fusion, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Dark Fantasy, Dark Will Graham, Hannibal Lecter in Love, Hannibal Lecter is a Cannibal, Hannibal Lecter is the Chesapeake Ripper, Happy Ending, M/M, Mystery, Weird flirting, Will Graham Doesn't Need Help, Will Graham is a member of the Addams family, Will Graham is in love with the Chesapeake Ripper
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2020-08-19 23:33:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20218114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jiwa/pseuds/Jiwa
Summary: In a world where our favourite profiler's family history is a little more intriguing, Dr. Hannibal Lecter meets Will Graham-Addams.“Excuse me,” Hannibal says, “I couldn't help but notice that you're not wearing a costume.”The man turns around to look at Hannibal. “This is my costume,” he says dryly. “I'm a homicidal maniac - they look just like everyone else.”





	1. Halloween

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Voices and the Shadows](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5286458) by [darlinghogwarts](https://archiveofourown.org/users/darlinghogwarts/pseuds/darlinghogwarts), [MaddyHughes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaddyHughes/pseuds/MaddyHughes). 

> This is my first Hannibal fic on this site, hope you all like it. I've been sitting on the idea for quite a while, and decided to flesh it out into a multi chapter story.
> 
> Some aspects of this story are inspired by a fic called _The Voices and the Shadow_. It's one of my favourite fics in this fandom, so go check it out if you haven't already.

Hannibal Lecter doesn’t usually attend these kinds of parties. It’s only due to Jack’s insistence that Hannibal had decided to come at all.

Officially, Jack and Bella Crawford were celebrating their fifteenth anniversary. However, Hannibal knew that the true reason behind them throwing a Halloween party of all things was the fact that Bella’s cancer had officially entered remission. They were out of the dark waters for now, and wanted to celebrate while it lasted.

The invitation had included a strongly worded suggestion for everyone to wear some kind of costume “in the spirit of the season”. Hannibal has no idea why such a demand was being made of the guests in the first place, but seems like most people were happy to leap at the chance to don a costume of their favourite superhero or something equally as banal.

Hannibal, having drawn a line on wearing a Halloween costume, finds himself at a loss. He had seriously underestimated the willingness of adults to play dress up, because he’s seemingly the only person inside the venue who isn't wearing a visible costume. He tries mingling for a couple of hours among the other guests, mostly greeting the people he recognises from his and Jack’s shared social circles, but for the first time in a long while, Hannibal finds himself truly standing out. 

Then Hannibal notices _him_.

There's a man with dark curly hair and glasses by the bar. He's nursing a drink, and similar to Hannibal, he's wearing no visible costume. The man's body language is closed and doesn't exactly invite small talk, but Hannibal decides to chance it anyway. The evening had already been uncomfortable so far, and he has nothing to lose.

Hannibal sides up to the bar and orders a glass of wine from the almost acceptable menu of drinks.

The man glances at him briefly from behind his thick rimmed glasses, then quickly looks away.

Hannibal takes a sip of the wine. It's adequate, but not really worth savouring. The stranger on the other hand... From close proximity, Hannibal is taken back by the man's beautiful features. He already knows he made the right choice.

“Excuse me,” Hannibal says, “I couldn't help but notice that you're not wearing a costume.” He takes another sip of his wine.

The man turns around to look at Hannibal. “This _is_ my costume,” he says dryly. “I'm a homicidal maniac - they look just like everyone else.”

Hannibal almost chokes on his drink in surprise. He reaches for a napkin and clears his throat, barely suppressing a smile. “What an interesting joke to make in a room full of FBI agents.”

“Oh,” the man says, looking down to avoid Hannibal's gaze.

“Despite that, I have to confess I found it incredibly amusing.” Hannibal puts the napkin down, and offers his hand, along with the first genuine smile of the evening. “Doctor Hannibal Lecter.”

The man looks back up, furrows his brow, and accepts the hand. “Will Graham-Addams,” he says, and directs his piercing blue eyes at Hannibal. The depth of that gaze makes him shiver. “You’re that psychiatrist Jack wants to bring in to work the Minnesota Shrike case.”

Hannibal tilts his head in acknowledgement, but on the inside his heart is beating wildly. He doesn’t dare to look away. “And you must be Jack’s most treasured profiler,” he says, the smile now frozen on his face.

Will Graham-Addams, the man who can empathize with any killer to a frightening degree... Is he seeing Hannibal Lecter, or the Chesapeake Ripper?

Hannibal is already calculating the most efficient way to kill everyone in the room, when Will finally breaks eye contact and the moment passes. 

Hannibal feels slightly ridiculous, wondering if he's had too much to drink. But... He finds he cannot discard the idea so quickly. There's no denying that this fascinating man, who has had dozens of serial killers inside of his head, had caught his attention. The Chesapeake Ripper does not scare easily.

There has to be more to it. 

“I dabble,” Will says with a grimace. “Jack would like me to come work full time with the Bureau, and I’ve managed to resist him so far. He’s certainly persistent, I’ll give him that.”

How curious. 

“You find your true calling to be elsewhere? I understood from Jack that you’re a teacher at the academy.”

“That’s true, but I wouldn’t say that teaching was my calling.” Will stares at the bottom of his glass of whiskey, and his eyes glaze over slightly. “I’m working on a book, actually.”

Hannibal takes another sip of his wine. “On what subject?”

Will glances at him from the corner of his eyes, considering. Then he seems to brace himself, as if expecting a negative reaction. “The Chesapeake Ripper.”

Hannibal smiles inwardly, pleased that his instincts aren’t failing him after all. 

“In the light of the recent events, your topic is certainly a current one.” Hannibal pauses, and carefully masks the simmering fury beneath his next words. “Are you working together with Frederick Chilton? He is, after all, the man who helped to finally bring the Ripper to justice.”

Will snorts. “Abel Gideon?” he asks with clear distaste that pleases Hannibal. “Don’t even get me started on Dr. Chilton and that so called confession he managed to produce. I’m surprised more people don’t realise what a complete hack he is.”

Oh. Interesting.

“You don’t think Gideon is the Ripper?” Hannibal asks slowly. “Have you told Jack of your suspicions?”

“I have,” Will grounds out. “But apparently my empathy is just ‘a hunch’ when it comes to something this big. And since the Ripper hasn’t had any new victims since Gideon was put away, everyone else is convinced...” He barks out a dark laugh. “Or should I say, they _want to be_ convinced that they’ve accidentally caught the most fascinating serial killer in American History on a fucking technicality.”

Yes. That certainly wouldn’t do at all. 

Hannibal had already been planning on teaching Frederick Chilton a lesson ever since he'd heard of his "feat" in uncovering buried memories. It really wasn't ethical to use psychic driving on a mentally frail mind like Abel Gideon's, and then present your findings as having had the Chesapeake Ripper in custody all along. How terribly rude of Dr. Chilton. 

“They’re all desperate for the horrors of the Chesapeake Ripper to be over,” Hannibal agrees neutrally, inclining his head. He searches Will's face, and on there he sees something ineffable. Too much to be yet named out loud, even to himself. “You certainly seem very passionate about the Ripper.”

Will’s cheek flush darkly. “Yeah, well... I just can’t stand the thought of—”

“Hey Graham, why aren’t you in a costume?” someone asks loudly, coming to stand to the bar between Will and Hannibal, interrupting their conversation.

“It’s Graham-Addams,” Will says, accompanied with a long suffering sigh, and gives Hannibal an apologetic look over his co-worker’s shoulder. “I suppose I’ll see you again on Monday,” he says.

Hannibal is annoyed by the interruption, but smiles at Will and bids him farewell. 

He doesn't linger for much longer after his conversation with Will, having lost even the tiniest bit of interest in the party, which by this point mostly consists of drunken idiots. After a quick goodbye to the wonderful hosts of the party, Hannibal departs.

After all, someone needs to teach Frederick Chilton a lesson.


	2. Coffee

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank you all for your wonderful words of support on the first chapter. I really wouldn't have kept writing this fic if it weren't for all of your comments. 
> 
> Thank you.

Hannibal doesn’t usually visit bakeries or coffee shops, since he is very particulate about the foods he consumes. There is, however, this particular small bakery and coffee shop in Baltimore, located conveniently between his home and his office, which he will occasionally visit on his way to work, if he is too busy to bake and wants something special with little effort. 

Last night’s activities kept him busy, yet he wants to reward himself for a job well done. Thus, a visit to the coffee shop is in order. 

The delicious aroma of quality coffee greets him the moment he walks through the door, accompanied by a tinkle of the shops’ bell. 

Thankfully, it is still early enough that a proper queue hasn’t had the time to form. Despite that, a quick glance around tells him that most of the tables are taken. 

Hannibal usually takes his order to go, so he really doesn’t care that the place is relatively packed. However, by the time it is his time to order, he spots something interesting. 

His favourite table in the corner, the one next to the window, is taken by a familiar man with brown curly hair. The man in question is currently pouring over a stack of papers, while simultaneously reading something off a laptop screen. 

Hannibal smiles at the sight. 

“Would your order be to stay or to-go?” the barista asks.

“To stay, please.”

The barista nods and Hannibal moves over to wait for his order. Once his drink and his danish pastry are handed over, he slowly walks over to the corner table and clears his throat.

Will Graham-Addams looks up at him and blinks.

“Pardon me for interrupting, but is this seat occupied?” Hannibal asks, motioning to the seat opposite to Will. 

The table has four seats and Will is currently occupying all four of them: he is sitting on one chair with his laptop on the table directly in front of him, one chair holds his briefcase, and while the other two chairs are free, the table is covered with folders and piles of paper.

Most of them are upside down, and Hannibal only has a moment to glance at them, but they were definitely case files and newspaper articles about the Chesapeake Ripper. 

“Oh,” Will says, still blinking up at him. He takes off his glasses and rubs his eyes, and says, without meeting Hannibal’s gaze, “Doctor Lecter, good morning. I’m sorry, I completely lost track of time, I didn’t mean to be rude and take over the entire table. I was thinking I’d be done by the time this place got crowded.”

Hannibal smiles politely. Will stands up and starts gathering his folders and papers into one big pile, setting them next to his laptop. “Please, sit.”

Hannibal sets his order down on the table, pulls out the chair and sits down, all the while keeping an eye on Will while he collects his things. 

“Busy Sunday?” Hannibal asks.

Will finishes organizing his papers and slumps back down on his chair. “I like to get writing and research done on weekends,” he says, stealing a quick glance at Hannibal, before grabbing his glasses and placing them back on his nose like armor. “I’m less likely to be interrupted. Well, not that I think you’re interrupting me—” he trails off with a huff, giving Hannibal a small, uncomfortable smile. “I just have more free time on my hands, and Jack is less likely to call on my services unless there’s a high profile case.” 

Hannibal nods. “I understand. Similarly, even though I don’t have any clients today, I’m on my way to work to better organize my patient files.” He motions down at Will’s laptop. “Please, don’t let me interrupt you.“

Will glances at him again, seeming a little hesitant, before reaching for his own abandoned cup of coffee and looking at the bottom of it. “Actually, I think I’ll go for a refill before I continue,” he says, then gives Hannibal an assessing look, “Look after my things in the meanwhile?”

“Of course.”

It was truly unfortunate that Will had gathered up all of his files, because made it more difficult for Hannibal to snoop. The topmost paper seems to be Will’s comments on an academic article about the Chesapeake Ripper. The entire margins of the paper are filled with notes, in what Hannibal surmises must be Will’s handwriting, pointing out numerous factual mistakes. One entire paragraph is circled in red ink, with “WRONG!!” written next to it in big, bold letters. 

Will walks back to the table and he must have seen Hannibal looking towards the pile, because as soon as he sits down, he clarifies, “One of Chilton’s papers. It’s trash.” He takes a sip of his coffee and shakes his head. “I’m actually regretting printing it out, because it’s a waste of good paper.”

Hannibal smiles a little wider than he intends to. He is glad to be able to pick Will’s brain on the Ripper case without being interrupted like last night. “You truly think Chilton is wrong about Abel Gideon?”

“Tch! Abel Gideon might fit the profile on the outside, but only if you’re completely willing to ignore everything else. When he killed his family, his MO was completely different. Besides, he simply lacks the sophistication.” Will looks up at Hannibal and says, clearly and confidently, “I’ve never been more sure of anything. Abel Gideon is not the Chesapeake Ripper.” 

Hannibal takes a sip of his coffee and tilts his head, considering the man in front of him. “Despite your certainty, you haven’t been able to convince Jack Crawford.”

Will looks down, and a flush rising to his cheeks. “Well, I…” he trails off, bringing his hand to cover part of his chin and mouth, like he suddenly wants to hide. “What I said last night is true. Jack doesn’t believe me, he thinks I don’t have enough evidence… But then again, maybe I haven’t been too insistent for a reason.”

Hannibal exhales and leans forward. “You want to catch the Ripper yourself.”

Will regards him with a moment. Then, he takes off his glasses again and looks Hannibal straight in the eye, his lips curling into smile. “I’m going to be honest with you, Doctor Lecter. I don’t think he can be caught. The Chesapeake Ripper is a new type of monster," Will says, his eyes shining with badly suppressed reverence. 

Reverence for the Chesapeake Ripper, for his work.

Hannibal swallows. “You almost sound as if you admire him,” he says, working to keep his tone of voice steady and professional. “Yet, you work to capture him.”

“I do,” Will says, and pauses before clarifying, “Admire him, that is. I’ve dedicated my life to capturing monsters, but I’m not an idiot, I don’t want to catch him. All I can do is witness him.” He smiles shakily, and Hannibal’s heart skips a beat. “Anyone who thinks they can do otherwise is a fool.”

They stare in each other's eyes for a long, seemingly unending minute, before the sound of a vibrating phone breaks the moment.

Will grabs his phone from the table and looks at the screen. “It’s Jack,” he says, raising an eyebrow. “Excuse me.”

Hannibal nods at him, and Will accepts the call.

“Good morning, Jack,” Will answers, sounding sarcastic enough that Hannibal deduces he didn’t receive a greeting in turn. “What is so important it couldn’t wait until—”

Will falls silent, listening to the other end, then says, a little distractedly, “Yes. Of course. Bye.” He hangs up the phone and rubs at his face, now noticeably paler and sweatier than moments ago.

Hannibal looks on curiously, like he didn’t know what the phone call was all about. “Has something happened?”

Will puts down his hands, and looks at him. “Frederick Chilton is dead,” he says, and a small, incredulous laugh escapes from between his lips, as he continues, “He was murdered… by the Chesapeake Ripper.”

“Am I to assume Jack wants you at the site?” Hannibal asks, working hard to keep his tone level.

“Yes,” Will says. A moment passes until Will seems to realize what his own answer means for him. Then he stands up suddenly and starts stuffing his pile of notes into his briefcase. “Excuse me, I have to—”

Hannibal looks on from his seat, noting the way Will’s hands shake has he handles his laptop. With terror, or perhaps excitement? Hannibal makes a mental note of it. “I’m guessing the next time we meet, it will be in a more official setting. Perhaps next week, for the Minnesota Shriek case.”

Will nods distractedly, wiping sweat from his forehead. “Yes…” 

He’s almost by the the door when Hannibal stands up and calls after him.

“Will?” 

Will startles, looking back back Hannibal with wide eyes. 

Hannibal holds out Will’s phone. “You nearly forgot this.” 

“Oh.” Will looks down at his phone and reaches for it. Their fingers brush together momentarily, and the brief touch seems to ground him in the present again. He looks Hannibal in the eye and says, “Thank you, Dr. Lecter.”

Then he dashes out of the door like a force of nature.

Hannibal looks down at his hand, and feels a sense of rather delicious foreboding. 


End file.
